Haou's Holiday
by Higuchimon
Summary: Every world has its holidays. Even Dark World.


**Story Title:** Haou's Holiday  
 **Characters:** Juudai, Skull Bishop|| **Pairing:** N/A  
 **Word Count:** 1,500|| **Chapters:** 1/1  
 **Genre:** Drama, Angst|| **Rated:** G  
 **Challenge:** Diversity Writing, D30, drama genre; Easter Egg Basket Advent day #13, write about a holiday; Collect the Death Duelists: Skull Bishop  
 **Notes:** By my estimation, it was the holiday season when the duelists were in Dark World. Specifically, it fell some time after Jim's defeat at the hands of Haou and before O'Brien regained his courage. So that's when this is set.  
 **Summary:** Every world has its holidays. Even Dark World.

* * *

"Haou-sama." Skull Bishop interrupted the usual litany of his master's name being chanted from the warriors stationed on the bridge blow.

Haou's only acknowledgment was a faint twitch of one armored finger. Skull Bishop – all of the other Death Duelists stood near the doorway, muttering among themselves – moved forward. He held a finely carved box in his hands.

"We know that you're not native to this world, Haou-sama," the monster declared. He nodded to where the comet coursed through the skies in its endless journey. "But we have a tradition. Around this time of year, we celebrate harvests and the bounty of another year's hard work for those who till the fields and fish and hunt."

Life in Dark World wasn't easy, especially when it came to providing enough food. Haou could understand wanting to be grateful for it. He nodded to indicate his servant should continue.

"It's also traditional to exchange small gifts for some people. Our loyalty and service to you is, of course, without measure or limit, and we will lay down our lives for you should it be necessary. That is our pride, not a gift."

Skull Bishop's tone had something of a sing-song to it, as if he'd done this before. Haou wondered how many other overlords he'd seen fall.

No matter. They would not see him fall. He couldn't. He dared not.

But now Skull Bishop offered him the box. "I found this not long ago, during one of our raids. I believe that you will be pleased by it."

A gift? He hadn't put Skull Bishop's words together with what the other held in his hands, until now.

When was the last time he'd been given a gift? He couldn't remember. His birthday fell between the school years, and his friends tended – had tended – to send cards, both birthday cards and the occasional Duel Monsters card – but he'd never thought of them as 'gifts'. His parents would at least tell him happy birthday.

None of that had ever mattered, either. Getting older bored him and he could have cake whenever he wanted it.

Especially now that he ruled a world.

But he reached out to take the box regardless. He could not help but wonder what Skull Bishop thought would be worth saving and giving to him. Did they expect him to live long enough to get it or did they fear he would and would punish them if he didn't like it?

He didn't know which could be the truth and he dismissed any other idea that dared to show itself. These were his warriors, his assistants in the creation of Super Fusion and the domination of Dark World. They were not friends. He didn't have friends and he didn't want them. He knew what being friends meant: it meant dying.

Not that these wouldn't die as well, but only when he'd had his fill of them.

The five remained in silence by the door, Skull Bishop having scurried back once delivering his gift. When they were around others, they displayed no fear and total loyalty to him. When it was just the six of them, he saw fear frequently, save on those moments when they reported victory to him.

Still curious, though he would never have admitted it out loud, he lifted up the box's lid and stared at what as inside.

Black pearls gleamed up at him, nearly as dark as the world itself, as the darkness that wrapped itself around him at all times. All five, strung together on a silver chain, were polished and as round as the moon he scarcely remembered seeing anymore.

At home it would probably be worth a small fortune. Here, he had no idea, but it struck a part of him that he'd never even known existed.

That had happened far too often lately. The power of Haou recalled a moment in Neo-Space, when he'd first spoken to Aqua Dolphin and words of _the Gentle Darkness_ had been spoken.

He pushed that away now. He couldn't be gentle. Gentle would not rule this world with the power that he needed.

"Those pearls are said to be enchanted," Skull Bishop spoke up. "Any who own them will attain their most heart-felt desires." He coughed and Haou could almost see Guardian Baou rolling his eyes at the very thought. "No one truly believes such nonsense, of course. But that is the legend connected to them."

Haou doubted that himself. No one ever got what they really wanted. He knew he never had.

But they were lovely and he could almost see them gleaming against suntanned skin, or something that could be a dragon's scales…

He closed the box and set it on the table a few strides away.

"I presume there is also feasting involved in this celebration?" Haou wanted to know. There usually were feasts involved.

Skull Bishop nodded without hesitation. "The cooks have waited for your order to begin anything here, of course." Of course.

His stomach didn't rumble, for which Haou found himself briefly grateful. It wouldn't have gone over very well right now.

"Have it made so," he ordered. He considered again, then caught Skull Bishop's gaze. "You will sit at my right hand tonight." Skull Bishop delivered this gift, which was meaningless and trivial, and therefore Haou would grant him an equally meaningless and trivial reward.

The Fusion monster bowed his head at once. "It shall be done so, Haou-sama."

Haou dismissed them with a nod of his head, his gaze going back to the chanting warriors outside. Hearing this over and over again helped keep him grounded in the knowledge of who he was and who he needed to be at all times.

But the presence of the pearls refused to leave his mind. He found himself tempted to throw them away, scattered to the winds. What could he do with them, other than that? He didn't wear jewelry. He had little need for treasure.

O'Brien wore jewelry, he recalled, gold and fancy and probably heavy. It hadn't slowed him down in his escape, though. Where was he now? Trying to find a way home – back to Earth? Trying to make a home here?

Haou hadn't kept much track of time since choosing to take on his proper mantle. But now he picked up the box and dismissed the worshiping warriors, going to his private quarters. There, hidden in the back of his closet, behind rich garments he never wore because a warrior wore armor and he was a warrior, first, last, and always, hung a red uniform, stained and dirty and probably too small for him anyway these days.

And from inside the pocket of that jacket, he pulled out his Duel Academia PDA and flipped it open. He'd used it to little that the battery hadn't drained very much. He could still read the date, and he wasn't surprised. Some things kind of remained the same. Like holidays.

 _December 25, 2006._

What had he been doing a year ago? Two years ago? Nothing spectacular. Nothing to stick in his mind at all. Not like this year, when he'd been given a king's ransom in gems and would sit to a feast with beings that he would never have dreamed to see outside of a card or a hologram.

Ones that feared him and sat at his table because to do otherwise would be to starve or die. Or both.

He would never again sit with the friends he'd had before. Those who weren't dead weren't here and he'd never see them again anyway.

Haou squared his shoulders and set the box of pearls in the closet before he closed and locked it. Then he considered again and opened it up, this time removing one of the outfits from within.

He'd never liked dressing up in the first place, but this was a holiday, of sorts. He doubted anyone would be fool enough to try to stab him in the back tonight.

And if they did, he had five very loyal servants who would shred such an idiot before any real harm could come to him in the first place.

Perhaps he'd give Skull Bishop a bit more responsibility. At least he'd thought to please his master. There were some who wouldn't have. Some would've tried to avoid the whole thing to capitalize on his ignorance of this world.

Haou decided he wanted to know more about what holidays this world had. It could be useful.

If nothing else, it could be entertaining and he could use a little more of that. Watching people die just didn't have the thrill it used to, with Super Fusion complete.

At least it would make for better dinner conversation than some he'd had. He wondered if he should try to kill fewer people, in the hopes of better discussions.

No. It wasn't worth the price of letting evil flourish.

Nothing was worth that, ever.

Not even black pearls and a feast.

 **The End**

 **Notes:** I got hit by the last second idea to write something about Juudai's holiday season in Dark World in season three and this is what came up.


End file.
